Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 38: Caine: The Price of Stealing

CAINE

"No! I didn’t. She—she wouldn’t let me get near her. I swear it, High Alpha."

Fenris growls low in my head, but Jack-Eye’s hand grasps my shoulder, squeezing hard. "Caine," he says. Just my name, but his tone is full of warning.

I killed the last Alpha. Killing his successor is going to bring more trouble and headache. These are all facts I understand, but my brain is screaming, howling for a blood payment to ease my rage.

"That girl is mine," I whisper, forcing my clenched fingers to relax. The moment tension is released, his face slams to the ground again, still victim to my dominance.

Kill him, Fenris says, as if he wasn’t the one to force a promise of pacifism out of me earlier.

I shake my head, fighting to clear the red haze of bloodlust clouding my vision. The struggle is visceral—a war between my baser instincts and whatever shred of civility I’ve managed to maintain since ascending the Lycan’s throne.

It hasn’t been this hard since... A long time ago, in memories I refuse to recall.

My foot comes down on Raphael’s outstretched hand. Not an accident. Not a mistake. A deliberate, calculated expression of my fury.

Tiny bones crunch beneath my heel, bringing me a sliver of satisfaction, though my face remains blank.

Raphael grunts, jaw clenched tight, fighting to maintain dignity through the pain.

I’m not satisfied with this small display. Digging my heel in deeper, I grind against already fractured bones. Something inside me—something darker than even my normal temperament—wants to hear him break completely.

Raphael finally releases a high, shrill scream, I feel the barest hint of

Harper belong to?" My voice drops low, barely above a whisper. The question hangs in the air between us, loaded with

"She’s yours,

at his admission. The submission in his voice calms the savage

they’re still breathing. Others tremble visibly.

hands off the

crowd is frozen, without so much as a twitch in

A detail I’ve missed. I scan the gathering again, more

It’s a glaring oversight for a succession ceremony. While it isn’t required,

sign of trouble, leaving me uneasy. Especially when I also realize the scent from the girl’s room, the

Fenris.

to my silent call, the tattoos on my skin burning as he materializes beside me, saturating the

I order him, keeping my eyes on

the main building with supernatural speed. The sight of him—manifested separately from me—sends another wave of

front of Raphael, grabbing his hair to once again bring his face

is calm now, almost conversational. The

Jack-Eye says again, with a

and work onto my shoulders, but it’s impossible to hold back the rage in my head, the

meets mine again. "Who is it, Alpha Raphael? Which of your people went

says,

Lie, lie, LIE.

eye contact. "After what just happened to your hand,